


the smile that said "this better be worth it"

by Odasakus



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odasakus/pseuds/Odasakus
Summary: stay tuned for the sequel, wherein Hisoka flirts with Machi throughout the entire 'ceremony' while standing right next to his new husband.





	the smile that said "this better be worth it"

“Remind me why we had to be in the car for this?”

Hisoka watches Machi work, threading her nen through his skin, stitching him back to one piece. Her hands are skilled; nimble and precise, and there’s some kind of rhythm in her labour that makes it entrancing. That, and the fingers of her free arm are curled a little too tightly around his wrist to steady his arm. He likes the way she feels, her skin on his, the way her eyes focus with laser precision on her work, her tongue occasionally poking through her lips as she dutifully repairs his injury.

Illumi is driving, eyes fixed on the road ahead, the sun in his eyes despite his best attempts. He doesn’t look at them, and replies for Hisoka, since he’d never give a straight answer. “My target’s nen had a distance condition. We’re moving far enough away that it exceeds that, and then we will be free to return to the location.”

“You didn’t finish the job?”

“Who said that? I always finish.” Hisoka grins, voice dropping in pitch. His skin shivers as she raises her gaze from his wound to look at him in distaste. ( _Say it, say I disgust you.)_ He silently wills, and when she merely shakes her head and looks back down, he can’t help the downward turn of his lips, scowling.

“Hisoka killed our target, correct. But his ability doesn’t end with his death. If Hisoka had listened when I briefed him, he’d have known that we needed to stop his heart, but leave the brain undamaged, or the curse would be released.”

Machi tuts without raising her head. “Knowing him, he did listen, and thought it would be fun anyway.”

_Bingo._

“Hey now, no need to dwell on the happenings of the past. What matters is that we all learned something.” The silence that follows is delightful.

“What did we learn?”

“It happened less than fifteen minutes ago.” Machi says, incredulous, at the same time as Illumi.

He glances up to meet Illumi’s inquisitive gaze in the rearview mirrow. “That you and I make a good team, Illumi.”

Neither of the men look away for a long moment, until Machi clears her throat. “Please watch the road. You couldn’t afford my fee for something life-threatening.”

Hisoka sees no reason to tell Machi, and even _less_ Illumi, that he’s made himself secure enough to afford any problem that should befall him. Instead, he clicks his tongue once and looks down as the final stitch is tied, the nen melting into his skin until he loses visual on it. He turns his wrist, curls and uncurls each of his fingers. “Beautiful, as always, Machi.”

“One million Jenny.”

He chuckles. “I know, I know. When we stop.”

“That’s now, Hisoka.” Illumi says, voice blank as ever, as he slows, turning off of the road and parking the car. They climb out, and Hisoka looks to Machi, raising a hand to rest on her lower back, that she immediately slaps away.

“There’ll be somewhere to withdraw money inside. Illumi needs to file his taxes, he’s hopeless with deadlines.”

The small but sudden spark of bloodlust that floods from Illumi is quickly tamed, his head turning to stare at Hisoka. “I am not hopeless.”

“There, there, Illumi.” He approaches him, patting his shoulder with a grin. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I had to learn to do it too.”

The reception to his friendly reassurance is an icy shoulder, as Illumi turns away from him. “Father taught me to do my taxes. He also told me that _you_ waste my too much of my time.”

Hisoka feigns a wounded ego. “Silva thinks I waste your time?”

“Father _knows_ you only care for urgency when it’s your own.”

“He entrusts me with his eldest, though. That must mean something.”

“It means that he knows I am capable of destroying you, should it become necessary. Or just preferrable.”

Illumi isn’t one for smiling, but Hisoka can tell he enoyed saying it. He turns his chin away, making a sound of displeasure. “That’s rude, Illumi.”

Illumi looks at him wearily, opening the doors and letting himself in. Hisoka grabs it as it swings back, holds it open with a small bow to Machi, who looks to be considering punching him in the stomach as she moves past him. He grabs her hand once she’s inside, intending to bring it to his lips and kiss her knuckles, but her knuckles reach his mouth before expected, as she makes a fist and swings it directly into his teeth. He can taste blood, and he loves it. Loves _her_ , he thinks. He licks his lip clean and cups his jaw with his right hand, gazing at her with a restrained lust.

“Don’t touch me.” She warns, and he lets himself toy with the idea of resting a hand on her shoulder, just so that she’d grab his fingers and snap them. The way her eyes would shoot daggers at him, her lips pressed together, the tingling burn of bone as it shatters. But he does as he’s told, doesn’t want to cause more delays in Illumi’s schedule, because a rushed Illumi is no fun at all. Not flustered and angry, just busy and efficient; boring. Machi sits and crosses her legs in one of the seats in the waiting area, and nods towards the cash machine.

He smiles at her, and moves to it, withdrawing the payment. He glances over his shoulder as the machine spits notes into a small plastic chamber, sees Illumi at the counter, pen between his lips and eyes cast to the ceiling as he thinks seriously about a decision. His eyes are wide, his chin tilted, and he looks almost human, as he so often doesn’t. He abandons the machine that dutifully dispenses Machi’s payment, and moves quickly to Illumi, stepping lightly behind him. He slips a hand around his waist and brings it to rest at his hip, hooking his chin over the other man’s shoulder. “What’s so troublesome, love?”

Illumi barely shifts at the new weight and body pressed to him, ignoring the pet name and turning to glance in his direction. “Family name.”

Hisoka blows lightly into his ear, grinning at the scowl it earns him. “So? Didn’t daddy teach you to write? Your surname is a pain, but it’s not that difficult.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then…?”

“Father will kill you if I make you a Zoldyck.”

“Not for marrying his eldest son?”

“He won’t care about that.”

“Do I have to undergo some trial to earn the name?” He chuckles, amused at the thought. The assassins had so many rules, so many hoops to jump through. “I don’t have to take your family name if you’d prefer. You could always become a Morrow.” He presses his lips to Illumi’s neck and feels delight run through him at the sharp quality the form beneath him adopts.

Illumi’s fury was tastier than almost anyone elses. He speaks in his regular tone, without hesitatance or malice. “I will kill you before I abandon the Zoldycks.”

Quietly, Hisoka wonders how far he could push before Illumi called off their entire plan. He smiles at the clerk before them, whose hand is wrapped around the desk, where he can only assume that she has her fingers ready and waiting against a panic button. He looks at her sympathetically. “Sorry about him. He gets moody when he doesn’t know what to expect. You should see him at christmas.” The woman looks understandably uncomfortable.

Hisoka doesn’t move out of the way of Illumi’s fist as it flies for his face. It stops just short, and then moves to take the pen from his mouth. He sighs in disappointment, and squeezes tighter against him, reading over his shoulder as he writes his family name in the box above Hisoka’s. Penning the characters in his neat, practiced lettering, he looks at him. “You’re the one who has to tell father.”

“That’s fine.” He thinks, and entertains the possibility that Silva may make him fight for the right. He licks his lips, and takes the pen from Illumi to sign his name, making a show of finishing with an overly flared Z through the entire thing. He can feel Illumi’s knowing stare, and turns to him. “I’ll need to have a new seal made.”

Illumi nods, withdrawing his own and applying it to the other side of the form before handing it back to the clerk. She takes it, and then looks between them uncertainly. “You need a witness.” She says, and places the paper down. Her hands shaking, she points to the unsigned box. “And a minister.”

Hisoka sighs, planting his hands on his hips dramatically and looking at Illumi. “I told you we should have tried harder to get Chrollo.”

“If you want to ask him, do.”

He frowns, and takes out his phone. “I will, then.” He dials the boss of the Ryodan, lazily leaning an elbow on the counter, hips jutting out, he watches Machi count the bills that had since finished dispensing from the machine. He kicks out at Illumi’s ankle, nodding in her direction. “Don’t let her leave.” He says, and listens to the ring as Illumi moves to Machi’s side, speaking too quietly for him to listen in.

“Yes?”

“Boss?”

“Not yours.”

“Not anymore.” He amends.

“Not ever. What do you want, Hisoka.”

“Is that any way to speak to a man on the happiest day of his life?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I am to be wed today, Chrollo, and I need a holy man to sign the papers.” The silence lingers, and it’s all he can do not to laugh.

“You’re still a man of the cloth, aren’t you, boss?”

“Who would agree to… No, I don’t care. Why would I marry you?”

Hisoka _does_ laugh, then. “You may have to wait, Illumi’s first in line, but it’s an interesting proposition…”

“You knew what I meant.” He waits with a grin as Chrollo pauses. “Illumi, really? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Oh?”

“You’re just…” Chrollo seems to be searching for an appropriate word. “Made for each other.”

Hisoka likes that. He’s not sure he has any legitimate feelings for Illumi, aside from the desire to fight him, and he doubts Illumi reciprocates even that. However, he can’t deny that they’ve spent time together when not strictly necessary. Briefs for missions, discussions of plans didn’t need to happen in bars, with drinks Illumi always paid for, or on the couch of his hotel room. The oldest Zoldyck was far from friendly with him, and yet, if what he was with everyone else was his polite, he and Hisoka had practically been lovers for years, in comparison.

(“We should just get married.” It had been a joke. A dig to try to coax some fury out of Illumi, an unhelpful suggestion that would prolong the conversation, because after this Hisoka had to catch a train for hours, and he’d be bored. But Illumi had steepled his fingers over his tea, and pressed his lips together.

“Why not?” It wasn’t often that Hisoka was at a loss for words, with nothing to say. Illumi tilted his head at him.)

“I wouldn’t go quite that far. Anyway, are you in? I’ll buy you dinner or something.”

“Wine. I want wine. There’s got to be something bad about marrying two assassins.”

Hisoka purses his lips. “Every time you say it, I think there just might be something worth looking into about forming a thruple.”

“Text me the address.” Chrollo says, and hangs up. Hisoka can practically see his tired expression.

He beams at the clerk. “We’ll be married as soon as he arrives, then.” He watches her turn away to reach for something. He moves from the counter and watches Illumi across the room, as he rests a hand on Machi’s shoulder stiffly and says something quietly, Machi’s eyes narrowed, her body tense.

(“Excuse me?”

“I think that solves our problems. We may as well. Let’s get married.”

Hisoka can’t tell if this is a joke– it’s Illumi. “You want to marry me?”

“Not at all, but I think we should.”

He’d leant in, chin resting on the heel of his hand. “Why?”

“Maybe I’ve secretly loved you all of this time.”

He laughs. Hisoka knows, beyond doubt, that neither of them have ever recieved or experienced love in any form. They’re probably the two most unqualified people in the field. So, for all they know, maybe this _is_ what being in love is like. Maybe love is finding one another slightly less troublesome than the rest of the world, or being able to take the other’s wildly unacceptable traits in stride.

Well, not like it matters if they are or not, that’s not what this marriage would be built on anyway. “Will we start having sex?”

“Don’t they say married couples do even less of that than unmarried ones?”

He huffs. “Being your husband sucks already.”)

“Hisoka.” He hears, in Illumi’s dullcet tone, quiet and neutral, and he goes quickly to his side.

Winking at Machi, he slides up beside Illumi, an arm slipping around his waist. “Yes, babe?”

“Do not call me that. Did you get Chrollo to agree?”

“He’s on his way.” He leans in, leering, aiming to kiss him, and wrinkles his nose when Illumi pushes his face away.

Machi makes a sound and he turns to look at her. “Since when does trying to kiss someone not get you slapped?”

“Oh, you didn’t tell her?” He looks at Illumi quizzically, head tilted. Illumi shrugs slightly, looking at his phone and sending a message. Hisoka knows well enough that the only people he texts are family, and wonders when he became so sure. He smiles at Machi. “Illumi and I are engaged.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, we are. Isn’t love beautiful?”

“I don’t love you.”

Hisoka looks at Illumi, and chuckles. “Babe.” He starts, and is interrupted by a hand grasping his jaw so hard he can feel the bones grind. He grins as best he can, peering at his betrothed. “Don’t call you that, right?”

Illumi releases him with a look of disgust. “It’s going to be impossible to live with you, isn’t it?”

He pauses. They hadn’t discussed where they would live– Hisoka didn’t exactly have a permanent residence, and while Illumi’s home may be the Zoldyck manor, he certainly never spent time there, and he would never permit Hisoka to live there anyway. “Guess you’ll have to find out.” He pushes forward quickly and steals a kiss before Illumi can stop him.

(Panting, he drags a hand along his cheek to wipe the sweat, his nail slicing dangerously close to his own eye. He looks down the bed at Illumi, who is already sitting up and putting his shoes back on. Despite his seeming disinterest, Illumi had sat beside him, small package of the necessary supplies in hand, and asked Hisoka if he was a top or bottom, the morning after their decision to marry. And now, just as abruptly, he seemed ready to leave, less than five minutes after sex they both pretended was less clumsy than it had been.

“Going to kiss and run?”

Illumi brushes his hair over his shoulder and runs his fingers through the ends, checking for tangles. Hisoka finds himself wishing he’d gripped it more so that there would be, if for no reason other than to convenience him. “We didn’t do much kissing.”

He moves to him, shifting onto his knees. Bringing his arms up, he drags his fingers nail-first along the contours of Illumi’s chest, his touch feather light. He sweeps one of them beneath the curtain of his hair and noses into his neck, there. “More kissing could be arranged.” He murmurs, and smiles when he feels a hand cover his.

“Perhaps I’ll stay to kiss you when I finish my job, husband.” He says, in his regular tone, but something in the word, in hearing the affection it was supposed to carry be delivered in a familiar, unmodulated voice, does things to the pit of his chest that he can’t explain. He presses his chest to Illumi’s back more closely.

“Or, you could stay here and I could use my mouth for other things…”

His hands are drawn away with little force, and Illumi’s mouth presses to his, in some kind of familiar gesture that isn’t quite a kiss, before he stands and buttons his shirt. “If you want to play the house husband so desperately, do some laundry while you wait.” He says, and collects himself in the mirror before leaving the apartment.

Hisoka collapses onto the bed, decidedly committed to not doing as he’s told.)

It was the only time they’d had sex, but Hisoka had taken it upon himself to inject kisses into their days, if only for the amusement of Illumi finding different ways to push him away. But this time, he doesn’t. His hand comes up and curls around the back of his neck, and he kisses him back for a long and lingering moment, before drawing away.

He can feel Machi staring, and honestly he’s more interested in the dilation of Illumi’s pupils. He smiles at him, and he swears Illumi’s mouth twitches. “It’s our wedding day.”

“We are getting married.” Illumi says slowly.

“You were being serious?”

**Author's Note:**

> stay tuned for the sequel, wherein Hisoka flirts with Machi throughout the entire 'ceremony' while standing right next to his new husband.


End file.
